My Favourite Meal
by Cats070911
Summary: For all his breeding, sometimes Tommy cannot quite find the words to express his true feelings. A fluffy piece which was originally written for St Valentine's Day.


**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. This was supposed to be for St Valentine's Day, but I have been distracted by life and a little project for Tess.

* * *

 **February 2, Manchester**

"Okay, my bags are packed. What time do you want to leave in the morning, Tommy?" Barbara Havers looked over at her boss standing at the kitchen sink and smiled.

Tommy put down the knife he was using to peel the potatoes and walked around the bench. He draped his arm loosely over his sergeant's shoulder. "There's no hurry. I'm going to miss living here in our little flat."

Barbara looked up and smiled. "Yeah, moving in here was one of your better ideas, I must admit."

"It was. I couldn't stay a night longer in that pub."

"Why ever not?" Barbara nudged him in the ribs.

Tommy ignored her teasing. "It was, smelly, noisy, and the publican's wife was far too touchy-feely."

Barbara laughed. "I know what she wanted to touch and feel, Lord Asherton. She had the hots for you and your title so badly I thought she might spontaneously combust."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. "Perish the thought."

"Of her touching you, or combusting?"

"Both. It was bad enough when she started buying me extra drinks and winking at me, but when she started to pat me, that was too much. Having to peel bits of her from the ceiling would be preferable to any more of her caresses."

Barbara laughed. "I thought she was quite was amusing."

"You would."

"Would you like more whiskey, M'Lord? Do you need me to warm your bed, M'Lord?" Barbara imitated the woman's broad Mancunian flat vowels.

"I nearly choked when she said that."

"We could simply have moved pubs you know."

"No, I've enjoyed living here with you. I thought the extent of Fingal's corruption might mean we were here longer, and we needed privacy from his minions. This has given us space to think and work away from the station. Besides, you finally had to start calling me by my name."

"I didn't _have_ to. I _chose_ to. It didn't seem to make sense to call you Sir when we were living together." Barbara felt heat creep up her face. "Living in the same apartment..."

Tommy heard a tinge of regret in her voice. "I'm glad. Although I guess you're happy to be getting back to life without me under your feet."

"Nah..." Barbara looked away from him. "It's been... fun."

"It has. I like living with you."

They stared at each other for several seconds. Tommy pulled her slightly closer, but neither spoke or tried to move away.

"Right. Well, I see you have the spuds under control," Barbara said finally. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

 **February 14, London**

"Where's the DI, Winston?" Barbara asked. It was unusual for Tommy to be so late.

DC Nkata stopped typing. "Smithers took a call from him earlier. He's got domestic issues apparently."

"Domestic issues? Oh, that he should be like the rest of us. What issues can he have? He's got Denton to look after him."

"No idea. He will be in about eleven."

Barbara busied herself writing her sections of their report on Fingal. Just after eleven, Lynley arrived. "Hiya," she said as he walked past her desk. "Everything okay at home?"

"Good morning, Havers. Not really, but it will be."

Barbara looked at him trying to decide whether to follow him into his office or not. She grabbed her notes. "I have done more on the report. Do you want to read it?"

Tommy nodded. "Yes, I'll just get some coffee. Want some?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Lynley paused. "Then let's go to the coffee shop near the Post Office rather than here."

"Sure." It was unusual for him to be late and then want to leave the office again. "I'll grab my coat and a printout."

* * *

Barbara watched her boss as he queued for coffee. He looked tired but also a little excited.

"One large bog-standard coffee," Tommy said as he put the mug on the cardboard coaster emblazoned with the symbol of a cartoon dog lifting his leg on a coffee tree.

"And I suppose you have one of your fancy ones?"

Tommy slid into the booth next to her. "A double shot macchiato is not 'a fancy one'."

"It is when my standard is Waitrose homebrand instant."

"That seemed to stay in the cupboard in Manchester if I remember. A certain sergeant seemed to prefer to try all the different Nespresso pods."

"They were free. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. Not much really. Just George being paid a lot to sell them. So, what's going on, Sir? You're acting oddly."

"Sir? What happened to Tommy?"

"We're not in Manchester now."

"It shouldn't matter, not when we're alone. I don't want to go... it doesn't matter." He slurped his coffee loudly, a sure sign of annoyance.

Barbara frowned and reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Talk to me, Tommy. Something is distressing you."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to go back to being called Sir all the time."

"Understood. I... Tommy it is."

"Anyway, I don't think I am behaving oddly. I asked you here because I have a favour to ask."

Barbara made a show of rolling her eyes and groaning. "Yes, M'Lord?"

Tommy raised his eyebrows. His mouth stayed straight, but his eyes were laughing. "I'm still not sure I've forgiven you for that. Telling the publican that I was an earl set her off I think. Before that, I was just one of the guests."

Barbara smirked behind the rim of her mug. "Hmm, no. I saw her licking her lips every time she saw you. It was as funny as."

"As what?"

"I don't know. That's just the expression. I think I picked it up while we were there. Anyway, what's this favour?"

"When we were in Manchester, Denton's mother had a stroke. The other day he told me he would like to resign."

"He asked permission to resign?"

"Yes. It was rather sweet."

"Like a serf asking for freedom. Seems a bit archaic."

"I said something similar, although rather less harshly. His mother was in one of the older council flats near White City. She's improving but can't cope with the stairs. I've offered him a role at Howenstowe and a cottage in Nanrunnel for them."

Barbara smiled and nodded. "That was kind of you."

"Nonsense. Men like Denton don't come along often these days. He deserves some recognition for that and any assistance I can give them."

Barbara stared into her cup, trying not to say something she might regret. She decided to take the humorous route instead. "The favour's not to help you clean all the family silverware or something?"

Tommy laughed. "No, but now that you mention it, my suits of armour need a good buffing."

"Don't even think about it."

Tommy took a sip of his coffee. "I'm meeting someone from an agency tonight, and I was hoping you would come along and give me your opinion."

"That'd be right. They have an agency for domestic staff? Yes, I suppose they must. Why do you want me to help pick your next manservant?"

"Denton is not my manservant. He's the household's butler. But no, I'm not replacing him. I'm meeting an estate agent."

"You're moving?" Barbara's heart began to thump so hard she was sure he would hear it. "Are you going back to Cornwall too?"

Tommy frowned, then gave her a reassuring smile. "Heavens no. But the Belgravia townhouse is too big. It has too many memories that prevent me moving forward. I only moved back after Julia's death because I could hardly stay in that flat. Now I want to start somewhere new."

"You're going to sell the townhouse?"

"No, the agent is always after rental properties in my area, so I'm going to rent it out to an expatraite family. I've found a flat near Lambeth Bridge that I think might be suitable for a new beginning, and I'd value your input. I thought we could have dinner afterwards."

"Oh." Barbara still thought it was odd. "Surely you're the best at deciding where you want to live. Besides, tonight... probably not."

"You have something on?"

"No, it's just... not the day to been seen together."

"Why not?"

For an intelligent man, her boss was sometimes very slow. "It's February 14."

"Yes, I know that."

"St Valentine's Day."

"Yes, I know that too."

"Well, you see my point then."

"No. I don't."

"The agent... and people at the pub..."

"What about them?"

"They might mistakenly think we are... you know."

"Friends?" He had an innocent expression, but Barbara could see he was enjoying this conversation.

"More than that."

"And you find that idea abhorrent?" Tommy's eyes clouded over.

"No. But you should."

His eyes narrowed. "Why? And why should we care what people think?"

Barbara shrugged. "I don't want to argue with you."

"Neither do I."

"I just hate the day. If you're single, people seem to notice more today. If two people are together, everyone assumes they are lovers. I just... forget it. I'm being ridiculous."

Tommy reached over and stroked her arm. "I'm sorry. I never thought about the date when I made the appointment. I saw the apartment this morning and wanted to show it to you as soon as I could. I've told her I would decide tonight after you see it. Barbara, can we compromise? What if I plan dinner to be at a private venue so no one assumes anything? We can always call for a pizza."

"And beer?"

"I can buy beer, yes."

She grinned at him. "Yeah, Okay. You've won me over."

"Excellent." Tommy had a broad grin. "Do you want to show me your report?"

* * *

"It's fantastic!"

Barbara was not looking at Tommy or the flat. She was mesmerised by the view across the Thames and down over the Houses of Parliament. Tommy's new flat - she could think of it that way now because she approved - was a penthouse that covered the entire floor of the building. The front was a wall of glass overlooking the river. The open plan lounge and kitchen and two bedrooms shared the view, with the master bedroom having the additional feature of a balcony that caught the southern sun. At the rear, the ensuite, a second bathroom and a smaller bedroom overlooked the mix of new and old architecture towards the Imperial War Museum.

"So you like it?"

"Of course. Why is it empty? Who wouldn't want to live here?"

The agent, dressed in her navy blue power suit with matching stilettos that she had trouble balancing on, looked over the top of her glasses. "The owners have moved to Dubai. They are in oil."

"Sounds unpleasant in those temperatures," Barbara muttered. The estate agent was far too effusive for her liking, and she kept batting her baby blues at Tommy.

Tommy grinned at Barbara then turned to the estate agent. "As Barbara approves, I will buy it."

"Excellent. The owners are prepared to accept your earlier indicative offer. I will let them know the good news."

"I don't suppose you could allow us to stay a little while and plan a few things?"

"That would be very irregular, Lord Asherton. If we had your deposit, I could probably allow it."

"Text me the bank details. By the time you have spoken to the owners, I will have arranged for my bank to transfer it."

"Very well."

Tommy made a call then walked over to Barbara and draped his arm over her shoulder. "I was sold on the view too."

Barbara looked around. "The whole thing is great. And it's four times the size of the one we had in Manchester."

"Too big for one person?"

"One normal person, but..."

"That's fine, Lord Asherton," the tottering agent called out. "Your money has been received. Just pull the door shut as you leave. Call me if you need me to do anything for you. Any time."

Tommy smiled and thanked the agent as he walked her to the door. Barbara noticed his ears had gone red. She had to turn back to the view to stifle her desire to laugh.

"Good, now she is gone we can have a decent look."

"Call me if you need me to do anything for you. Any time. Does that line ever work?"

Tommy frowned slightly. "Mmm. Not with me. I am not interested in her."

He came and stood directly behind Barbara. She suppressed a shiver. "Great view," she said to deflect attention from her reaction to his proximity.

"You keep saying that."

"Do I?"

Tommy moved so close that Barbara could feel his jacket brushing the back of her shirt. "The view is much better from the bedroom."

She closed her eyes. "You'll be very happy here."

"I hope so. It is rather big for one person."

His breath tickled her neck. She tried not to tilt her head to expose more of her neck to him. "Mmm."

His face moved closer to her ear. His chin, with a light whiskery shadow, brushed her neck. "But perfect for two."

Barbara opened her eyes. So that was it. He had a new girlfriend. She ducked out from under his arm and walked across to the kitchen, taking deep breaths as she walked. "Any woman would be happy here. Nice appliances." She tried to sound detached.

"Barbara?"

She turned and gave him a tight smile. "Yes?"

"Would you be happy here?"

"What?"

"I was trying to ask you to move in with me."

"Me?"

Tommy nodded. "Yes, you. We got on well in Manchester."

"I can't afford the rent here."

"There's no rent. I own the place. Or I will soon. You could let out your flat to cover pay off your mortgage faster."

Barbara looked at Tommy, then the view then walked into the second bedroom. He followed her. "I do like this room."

"I thought this could be our study."

"You want me to move into the small room at the back?" Barbara was about to tell him about respect when he started to smile and put his hand up.

"No. I want you to move in with me, not be my flatmate. I thought we would share the master bedroom."

"What?"

"I'm asking you to make a life with me."

"Is this a cruel joke?" She tried to push past him, but he blocked the path. "Because it's St Valentine's Day?"

"No, it was supposed to be romantic. In Manchester, everything made sense. Coming home with you, to you, was all I wanted. Every night since we've been back, I've had to stop myself driving over to Camden and falling at your feet."

Barbara stared at him. "You never said anything up there. You never tried to..."

"What?"

Barbara looked down. "Even kiss me. We were alone. You could have... said something."

"I tried, a few times, but I thought if you didn't feel the same way, we still had to live together and it might be too awkward. I tried to say something that last night, but you were obsessed with my potatoes."

"My thoughts were running more towards your sausage than your potatoes."

Tommy's eyebrows shot skyward then lowered as his grin spread across his face. He stepped forward and rested his arms on her shoulders. "Really?"

"I'm not immune to your charms." Barbara's face flushed scarlet.

His arms moved further over her shoulders and dragged her body against him. "I love you, Barbara, and I'm hoping you feel the same way."

"You what?"

"I love you. The question is, do you love me?"

She took a breath, then slipped her arms around his waist. "Of course I love you, you idiot. I have for years."

For several minutes they stood in the door frame holding each other tightly. Neither spoke. Tommy's hands caressed her back. His chin locked her head against his chest. Barbara pressed her face into his shirt and inhaled his scent. She never tired of that smell - in his car, his house, his office, and now finally at the source. A thousand reasons why this was a lousy idea streaked across her thoughts, but he had said he loved her, and that was enough to banish any doubts.

"If we're going to share a bedroom, at some point do you think you should kiss me?"

Tommy laughed. "I want to very much, but you haven't said if you will move in yet."

"Maybe that depends on the kiss."

"I see, well in that case."

Tommy pulled her close and lifted her face with his thumb. They smiled at each other before their eyes drifted shut as their lips met. Barbara had witnessed Tommy's first kiss with Helen, and had expected the same uncoordinated awkwardness. Their lips touched briefly before retreating then rushing back together. It was not ungainly or embarrassing. It was wonderful. His lips were soft and warm. His arms wrapped around her and helpd her tight. They both moaned and sighed and without any signal both deepened the kiss. Every move was in unison, graceful, unhurried, full of passion and tenderness as if choreographed by Nureyev himself. When they reluctantly parted, they held each other close, each burying their face in the neck of the other.

"So?" he whispered.

"Hmm, I think that would be a yes."

"Do I hear a but? Do you need more convincing?" He kissed her again, this time it quickly escalated into long repressed need and desire. They began to shuffle backwards into the main lounge area.

"No," Barbara said as she pulled his shirt out of his trousers, "but I'm suddenly very hungry."

"Me too." Tommy slipped Barbara's jacket off and began unbuttoning her blouse. They kissed as they kicked off their shoes and fumbled with the buttons on each other's trousers. "I hope you like sausage and potatoes."

They laughed before they began another series of passinate kisses. "I think it is going to become my favourite meal."


End file.
